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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292539">Temporal Displacement</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangereuse/pseuds/Dangereuse'>Dangereuse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ALL the problematic ABO tropes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Biting, M/M, Minor Painplay, Soulmate elements, Time Travel AU, Tom is not woke, Trope extravaganza, Trope smorgasbord, calling you vaguely from the background, cultural differences based on extrapolating a problematic ABO society, dub-con, filthy irredeemable smut, homemade is fine, if you don't have a soulmate, just to make your smut taste better, literally pornography, the plot is like a la croix, two boys who are not good at talking about their feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:49:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292539</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangereuse/pseuds/Dangereuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>House elves don't exist quite in linear space-time; instead of rescuing Harry and Hermione from Malfoy Manor and depositing them on the beach in a tragedy of blood and sand, Dobby manages to pull the both of them into the 1940s, just when Tom Riddle is seemingly wasting his potential post-Hogwarts, and Lord Voldemort is beginning to sniff around the base of pureblood society. </p><p>Harry and Hermione decide to take this opportunity to cut the budding problem of the Dark Lord off at the start, and are willing to do whatever it takes, even if their budding infiltration and possible assassination goes wildly off the rails at first-scent? No plan survives first contact with the enemy, and if making a better future it takes the most ridiculous honeypot scheme the two could ever consider, then so be it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>288</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Temporal Displacement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, I crash landed into this fandom, hit the ground hard, got like 30k into a time travel ABO AU, realized it was going to take another 100k for it to be a complete and comprehensible story, and then realized what I <i>really</i> wanted was this scene, which is basically pornography sprinkled with problematic tropes, and wrote this instead. Enjoy!</p><p>This takes place in a AU where Hermione and Harry are dragged back in time past Malfoy Manor confrontation and do their level best to fuck up the time line for the better.</p><p>I drop you in where Riddle figures out their little honeypot scheme, for maximum drama. Yum.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You want to manipulate me.” Tom breathed out, eyes glowing. “That’s why you’ve changed your tune, albeit grudgingly. You think if you mate me you’ll be able to guide my future actions.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tom—,” Harry tried, but he really had no idea what to say, no idea how to dig himself out of a hole this colossal. There was no way Tom would be okay with someone trying to control him, trying to be the boss of him—. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry blinked. Tom stepped closer; steps heavy. The hairs on Harry’s spine rose. He found himself bringing his hands up, semi-defensively.</p><p> </p><p>“Wot?” He said, like an idiot. He made himself lower his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. A little crude as plans go, but I understand you and Granger were Gryffindors before you time traveled and grew a little Slytherin sense. It’s inevitable you will be able to manipulate me as my mate. Puts you in a good position of power. I obviously already want to please you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wot,” Harry repeated again, not sure what to do with the adrenaline rush from his fight or fight instinct. He didn’t think they were fighting? Tom didn’t look furious. Just. Worked up.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s settled then. You’re my mate.” Tom’s eyes were gleaming. “I’ll continue to court you, of course. We’ll wed when it’s more respectable. Until then, you’ll quit whatever Granger’s giving you to suppress your heats immediately.” He stepped closer again.</p><p> </p><p>Harry seemed to come back to himself in a big rush. “You can’t tell me what to do!” He shouted, but it was mostly reflex to Tom ordering him around. He still wasn’t quite sure what was going on, what he was feeling, what to do, unbelieving that Tom just <em>didn’t care</em> that Harry was trying to manipulate him. His and Hermione’s hard-kept secret, out, and Tom wasn’t trying to kill them? But being in opposition to Tom was familiar. He’d spent his whole life doing that and now it was nearly a comfort.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yes I can,” Tom rejoindered, and something big and terrible was happening inside him. Harry’s skin was crawling but his face felt hot. “You want to manipulate me, fine. But I’ll bloody well get what I want out of it. And what I want is you.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s my body.” Harry protested. </p><p> </p><p>“And you’re my mate,” Tom snarled, bringing Harry closer by the hips. The sudden jump to physicality was frightening, this sudden aggression just when Harry was starting to believe that Tom wasn’t going to fight. “I’m not going to condone Granger’s omeganist bullshit. Your body belongs to me, and I’ll have you when and where I want you.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry glared at him from under his messy fringe. “Tom,” he tried. “Don’t be an arse.” He had to be kidding.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m absolutely serious.” Tom’s long-fingered hands began plucking at Harry’s clothes, going straight for the buttons of his trousers.</p><p> </p><p>“Tom!” Harry bit out, scandalized at this abrupt change. He’d always felt in-charge of their interactions before, Tom asking and coaxing for more of Harry. He had always wanted more of Harry, all of Harry, but Harry had always limited what Tom could have, parceled it out. Now Tom was—taking.</p><p> </p><p>Harry’s hands fluttered for a surprised moment, and he lost the instant where he could have recovered his trousers. Tom pushed them to his ankles, then proceeded to the waistband of his pants. Harry’s hands shot out to grasp his wrists.</p><p> </p><p>Tom simply picked him up.</p><p> </p><p>“Tom, stop—” Harry called out, but Tom just dumped him on the couch, following him down and caging him with his bigger body.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m serious.” Tom repeated, as he seized Harry’s wrists and pinned them to his sides. “I’ve picked up enough of Granger’s plan from trolling through your mind—your Occlumency shields are utter pants—and I’m willing to concede to it. You want to limit me in certain ways. Seeing as you two know the future and I don’t, I can see the benefits of it. But I’ll have you, and I’ll have you on my knot. That’s non-negotiable.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry swallowed thickly. He let Tom’s hands shuck him from his jumper and divest him of his pants. Tom’s movements seemed more clinical, more deliberate than usual. Normally he clutched at Harry with desperate fingers as he panted into Harry’s mouth. Normally he got Harry so hot for it Harry didn’t notice his clothes coming off. “I’m not sure—".</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll not deny me.” For the first time, their nudity wasn’t reciprocal. Tom was still entirely clothed, and Harry was naked. Worse, he genuinely <em>felt</em> naked like he never had before with Tom.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re beautiful,” Tom breathed out, and there was a hint of a cruel smile around his lips. Harry shivered. He brought his hands up, not sure if he was going to cover himself or reach for Tom’s clothes in turn, but Tom pinned his hands again, harder this time. His smile broadened. Then he slithered down the edge of the couch and knelt at Harry’s knees.</p><p> </p><p>“Spread your thighs,” He ordered conversationally.</p><p> </p><p>Harry blinked at him. “Tom?”</p><p> </p><p>“Spread your thighs, Harry.” He ordered, again, tone a little colder.</p><p> </p><p>Harry licked his lips. “Tom, don’t you think we should talk about this? You just found out…something big. And you’re acting weird.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom’s eyes were gleaming, and in the low light they almost looked red like Voldemort’s. There was a bulge in the front placket of his trousers and Harry purposefully didn’t look at it. “There’s nothing to talk about. I know your plan and I agree it’s beneficial to us both. You’re my mate, Harry. Now. Spread your thighs.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry blinked at him, dumbfounded.  Tom sighed, then leaned down and bit Harry, high and as far inside as accessible on Harry’s right thigh. Harry jerked his leg away and tried to knee Tom in his horrible mouth. “Ow!” Harry cried out, affronted. “That hurt, you wanker!”</p><p> </p><p>But the jerk of Harry’s leg opened his thighs just enough, and Tom hadn’t waited to be scolded. He’d twisted his shoulders until he came to rest right between Harry’s legs, right over his soft cock. A small shiver went down Harry’s spine as he caught the return of Tom’s smile.</p><p> </p><p>Tom leaned in, brought his face right down where Harry’s scent was thickest, and inhaled.</p><p> </p><p>Tom’s shoulders relaxed. “I didn’t think you’d consent to be mated,” Tom whispered, wonderingly, straight to Harry’s cock. He rubbed his face against it, scent-marking. Harry jerked a little, under him. “But now you’re mine.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom pressed a little kiss to Harry’s cock, just underneath the head, like he thought it was cute, before he shouldered forward, catching Harry’s thighs on his shoulders and making room for himself, angling Harry to expose his little pink hole. His grip tightened on Harry’s wrists, and Harry caught the brief flash of his grin before he just… dove in.</p><p> </p><p>Harry tried to squeeze his thighs shut on the first lick, arching his back and trying to work himself away. The transition was too rough, and Harry’s brain couldn’t quite translate this as sexual. It just felt…sensitive, overwhelmingly sensitive. Tom snarled, turned his head, and buried his teeth again in Harry’s thigh.</p><p> </p><p>“Ouch!” Harry shrieked out, wriggling and fighting for real, trying to get away, jerking his thigh from Tom’s teeth. “What the fuck, Tom?”</p><p> </p><p>“Every time you try and close your thighs to me I’m going to bite you.” Tom said, voice rough and a little wild, levering himself up a little to hold Harry pinned. Harry kept bucking, trying to jerk free. “Until you learn to keep your legs spread.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry gaped at him. “You’ve got to be bloody kidding.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom raised his eyebrow at Harry, before tucking back in. Harry let out a little ‘urk’ noise, choking in the back of his throat. He considered bringing his thighs together, clapping Tom’s ears. He could see the two bites on his thighs from here, the first already purpling. It was worth it. This was not a precedent Harry was willing to set.</p><p> </p><p>Harry clapped his thighs, right over Tom’s ears.</p><p> </p><p>Tom went <em>psychotic</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He turned, snarling, biting down into Harry’s thigh so hard Harry briefly wondered if he’d have a chunk missing. He kicked at Tom with his heels, tried to tear his leg away. Tears welled in his eyes when Tom released his teeth.</p><p> </p><p>Tom mantled over Harry, eyes wild. Harry could almost <em>see </em>Tom’s thick viscous magic, all pulsing and pressure in the room, could literally feel it helping to hold Harry down.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Spread your thighs</em>,” Tom ordered, alpha pushing. Harry fought it as hard as he could, pushing back with all of his will. Tom had never been able to order him thus, far, Harry always able to resist it like the alpha’s own Imperius—.</p><p> </p><p>He spread his thighs.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Good</em>.” Tom praised, and he coiled back down, between Harry’s legs. He pressed a chaste kiss on his last bite, which was beginning to bleed a little. “<em>Keep them open for me</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry snarled at him, blood up, but he didn’t close his thighs. Tom wasn’t smiling anymore, but Harry could see him visibly settle when he looked at Harry between his legs. He pressed another chaste kiss on Harry’s hole, hummed, and then began again.</p><p> </p><p>Tom had eaten him out before, but then it had been different, softer. Everything was different. This pseudo-calm, actually feral Tom was different. Tom was eating Harry out like it was for him, like it was his pleasure he was getting by licking Harry there.</p><p> </p><p>Harry shivered, and tested the edge of the command. <em>Keep them open for me</em>, Tom had said, and Harry was, Harry had too. Tom made a little sound into Harry’s center, and Harry felt the moment something clicked in his brain and his body started slicking.</p><p> </p><p>Harry’s body felt cold even as his cock chubbed up against his stomach, and he tried to arch away from Tom, but Tom growled and followed, desperate to bury his face in him. </p><p> </p><p>Harry was slicking heavier now, and Tom was chasing it, drinking him down. Harry watched the top of his face, fervent and excited like he found religion in Harry’s arse.</p><p> </p><p>“Harry,” Tom broke to breathe, rubbing his face against the insides of Harry’s thighs. “Morgana, Harry, the way you <em>taste</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry squirmed. He felt examined, pinned, Tom’s grip on his wrists so firm he felt his fingers tingling.</p><p> </p><p>Tom nuzzled his cock again, smearing Harry’s own slick on it. He kissed it, sucked the head briefly into his mouth, before he ducked back down to Harry’s hole like he couldn’t be parted from it for long.</p><p> </p><p>Harry was wet down his thighs now, Tom unable to chase all his slick no matter how enthusiastic his mouth, but wet as he was, Harry’s body still fought the press of Tom’s finger.</p><p> </p><p>Harry kicked his ankles but he still couldn’t close his thighs. “Tom, <em>no</em>.” He grabbed Tom’s hair in his free hand, tried to pull him away. Tom went shark still, before he pulled his finger and brought his head up to look Harry dead in the eyes. “Harry.” His tone was even, too even. “I am going to knot you. Do I have to tie you up for it?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry released Tom’s hair. “Tom. I don’t want to. Not when you’re like this. Not without talking.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom cocked his head, considering. He ran the fingers of his free hand up the insides of Harry’s thighs, watching as Harry shivered. “I want to.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry swallowed. “Our first time? On a couch?” He tried.</p><p> </p><p>Tom blinked at him. “I want to.” He repeated. He leaned in, nuzzled at Harry’s cock. “I want to,” he whispered.</p><p> </p><p>Harry cheated. He whined. An omegan distress call. Surely Tom couldn’t resist <em>that</em>?</p><p> </p><p>Tom froze for a few long, drawn out seconds, before his lips split in a macabre grin. “I think, in certain situations, I would fall for that. But like this,” he paused, licked his lips. “I like that, Harry.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry went cold. Tom crawled up his body, until he was peering directly into Harry’s face. “Do it again.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry glared at him. Tom laughed. He nuzzled Harry’s cheek, marking him with his own slick. “Do it again and I’ll let you have a bed.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry glared harder. Tom nipped his chin. He whispered in Harry’s ear. “Please, Harry.” He said, voice amused, and definitely not asking. “Make that sound for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry let out the whine.</p><p> </p><p>This close, Harry could watch Tom’s eyes dilate at the sound. He watched the shiver run down Tom’s back. “That’s delicious.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry glared at him.</p><p> </p><p>Tom watched him like he was dessert. He released Harry’s wrist, reached up to cup both sides of Harry’s face. “Oh Harry. What a gift you are giving me.” He kissed him. Harry caught the taste of his own musky slick in his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Tom fisted his hand in Harry’s hair, just the edge of rough, and used the grip to tilt Harry’s head to the side, exposing the vulnerable curve of Harry’s neck to his teeth.</p><p> </p><p>Tom looked Harry straight in the eyes, smiled, and then laid his mouth right over Harry’s mating gland. He sucked like Aunt Petunia’s vintage Kirby.</p><p> </p><p>Harry rocketed under Tom, clutching at him desperately with both hands. “T-Tom,” he cried, unable to withstand the wash of mind-melting pleasure. He felt like he’d been dunked in the Black Lake and consumed by Fiendfyre all at once. “T-tom!”</p><p> </p><p>Tom hummed into his neck, sucking deeper. Harry scrabbled at the alpha, blunt fingernails not enough to catch and tear and rend like he wanted to. He whined, the distress sound real, and Tom kept sucking. Tom’s mouth on his neck ached, it ached so bad Harry wanted nothing more than to escape and it simultaneously felt like the best thing Harry had ever felt in his life, and he was crying and clawing at Tom, trying to get him to <em>stop</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Harry came. Just a small spurt of nearly clear omega semen, but his whole body went limp and his mind blanked. Tom stopped sucking.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes were on <em>fire</em>, dark and lambent. “Oh, <em>Harry</em>, my darling,” he breathed out. “That’s so much better than all the books say.”</p><p> </p><p>He gathered Harry up, careful, gentle, and Harry let him, limbs incapable of moving. He felt stunned, literally, like he was waiting for Tom to press his wand tip to his chest and whisper <em>Rennervate</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Tom’s bed in his chambers was a magnificent piece, whether because the privileges of power were so great, or that Tom’s spite-driven skills in Transfiguration were so considerable. Tom plucked his glasses from his face, tucked them gentle on the sideboard, still in his line of sight. Tom tore the sheets down and placed Harry face down on the edge, so that his toes brushed the ground and his bum was up and exposed.</p><p> </p><p>“My darling,” Tom crooned, turning Harry’s face so he could breathe, angling Harry’s neck so the livid and purpling suck mark would be visible, and brushing Harry’s fringe out of his face.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t even ask, you ponce,” Harry managed to slur out.</p><p> </p><p>Tom’s fingers stopped their stroking. “No, I didn’t. And I won’t ask for what’s mine. But I won’t break the gland until you heat. So my comment on Granger’s concoctions still stands.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just ‘cause that’s when the bond takes the strongest.” He curled his fingers a little in the sheets.</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly, dear one.” Tom stroked his long-fingered hand down Harry’s spine, petting him, gentling him. Harry could feel the gooseflesh in his back raise in anticipation to where Tom’s hand would go.</p><p> </p><p>Harry made a pained noise, and buried his face in the sheets. “I hate you.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom’s hand paused, thumb poised right on his tailbone, a bare half-inch from Harry’s hole. He tapped, once, and Harry shivered.</p><p> </p><p>“I imagine you do, if you’re willing to go so far in an effort to foil me.” He commented, consideringly. “It explains why you wanted nothing to do with me in the beginning. And here I worried that maybe my mate didn’t like my scent.” He tapped, once more, before he shifted his thumb and pressed <em>in</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Harry jerked on the bed, trying to rise to his elbows in a half-planking effort to wriggle away. Tom’s free hand shot to the nape of Harry’s neck, and pinned him down. Harry made a small sound. Tom squeezed, just a bit, in a threat to gentle him.</p><p> </p><p>Harry went still.</p><p> </p><p>Tom thrust his thumb into Harry, just the edge of too rough. “Morgana, Harry, you’re tight.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry imagined he was, having not let Tom finger him in the past no matter how much he’d teased. He didn’t know if he regretted it now, with this strange feral Tom mantled over him, pushing his thumb in and out in a transparent threat to knot.</p><p> </p><p>Tom pulled his thumb free with a small wet noise, and caressed Harry’s tailbone with the slick digit. Tom went back down onto his knees behind Harry. It was better this way, Harry thought, with his face buried, not having to watch the rapturous look on Tom’s face as he was devoured.</p><p> </p><p>Tom’s hands wrapped around his hips, holding him still, keeping him in place.  Tom’s tongue was insistent, lapping at his sensitive rim, chasing the flavor of him inside. Tom was humming, like he was happy, like he was excited, like Harry was the best thing he’d ever tasted, like Harry was the pinnacle of all he’d ever wanted. The vibration made it all even better, and Harry managed to relax a little onto the sheets.</p><p> </p><p>Tom shoved his forefinger into him. “<em>Oh</em>,” was pushed out from Harry’s throat, like it’d been forcibly vacated to accommodate Tom.</p><p> </p><p>Tom’s finger slid deeper than his thumb, and the languor from the mating bite orgasm was beginning to fade enough that Harry could wriggle a bit against the pressure, the depth. Tom’s hand tightened around his hip, but he paused, pressed a small reassuring kiss to Harry’s cheek. “Shh, I know, you’re so small and tight here, untried and new, but you’ll be good and I’ll make sure you can take me, can open up to me and like it, I swear,” he gushed. He cooked his finger again and again, keeping up the strings of soft sounds, the soft prattle, and Harry only realized it was because Harry was making soft hitching sounds into the bed beneath him. Harry rubbed the sheet against his cheek, where his breath had made it hot and damp, coarsening the fabric, and forced himself to be quiet.</p><p> </p><p>Tom went back to licking him, sucking at his rim, working that finger deeper into his body, hooking in and pulling forth the slow molasses burn of pleasure until it built heavy in his gut.</p><p> </p><p>Tom slipped a new finger in, besides the first, and Harry felt his whole body tighten into a board.</p><p> </p><p>Tom nipped his buttock, gentle. “Ah, ah, relax.” Harry took a deep breath, forced his body loose like he was meditating before Hermione’s remedial Occlumency.</p><p> </p><p>“Good.” Tom sucked on his rim to reward him, and Harry found himself angling up his arse, giving Tom easier access. Tom stroked Harry’s hip in praise, working those fingers inside him. Harry felt hot and molten in a way he’d never been, as if his body was losing the boundary between him and the bed, between him and <em>Tom</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The third finger came fast and <em>hurt</em>. Harry whined, fists clenching in the sheets, back muscles clenching as he arched and toes scrabbling on the cold ground. “Tom, Tom! Too <em>much</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, I like that,” Tom breathed out, resting his forehead on Harry’s arsecheek while holding his fingers still inside him. Harry made a choking sound in the back of his throat, clenching and pulling at the sheets until his knuckles were white, forcing back another whine. Tom rolled his cheek against Harry’s arse, before burying his nose in Harry’s hip. He kissed there. Harry could hear his inhaled breaths. “Shh, it’s okay. Not this time, I know. I won’t hurt you. I want you to enjoy being mounted. We can explore pain later.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry shimmied under Tom, unsure at all if that was reassuring, especially with Tom’s fingers feeling so Merlin-damned big. His hole was clenching around Tom’s fingers, and his brain didn’t know what to think, whether it was sundering pain or soothing pleasure, so intense that it just might be both. Tom kept kissing his upturned arse, burying his face against it, and slowly curling his invading fingers. Harry clenched hard on a gentle stroke, and keened, wanting to curl up on his side. “Tom,” he slurred, rubbing his face so hard against the sheets it burned, “I don’t, I don’t think I can. Tom.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom chuckled. Harry pushed up with trembling arms. Tom crooked his fingers again, a little quicker this time, and Harry face-planted with a moan. Tom pet his arse, and increased the tempo of the fingers in his hole. Harry made more noises, squirming, clenching. His brain had decided now, and come in firmly on the side of pleasure. Thick, hot, consuming. It felt like it was filling him up, expanding inside him until it felt barely contained inside his skin. “Tom, I really, really can’t,” he pled, voice getting louder in desperation on each word, and Harry turned his face enough so he could peek at Tom with one eye. Tom looked flushed, eyes nearly crazy-bright, his gaze fixed on where his fingers were disappearing into Harry’s little body.</p><p> </p><p>Tom hummed, slowly pulling his fingers from Harry’s loosened little rim. He pet there, fingers wet and glistening slightly with Harry’s slick, gentle in their touch. “So pink. So wet,” he murmured to himself. </p><p> </p><p>Harry sagged against the sheets, and buried his face in relief. He let out a little half-sob, his stomach giving a little weightless swoop. His heart fluttered like a caged bird in his chest, each thump feeling like the thing was literally banging against the inside of his ribs.</p><p> </p><p>Then Tom kicked his left foot. His long-fingered hands settled again, firm on the crests of his hips.</p><p> </p><p>Harry jerked. His head snapped up, and he turned his head over his shoulder just in time to watch as the tip of Tom’s cock kissed the loosened rim of his hole. A small pressure, just a nudge, to see if that little rim would yield.</p><p> </p><p>“Tom!” He gasped, but he didn’t have enough time to brace his elbows in the sheets before Tom rocked his hips.</p><p> </p><p>For a brief second, long enough that Harry almost relaxed, Harry was sure his body just wasn’t going to open, nope, not today, not ever, before Tom’s fingers flexed and tightened and he <em>pulled</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Harry was wet, sopping really, down to his knees, but Tom’s cock was bigger, bigger than his three fingers, and he wasn’t kind. He didn’t work in small little thrusts until he finally came flush; he slid right in, deep, until his bony hips in their pressed wool came to rest against the plushness of Harry’s arse. Harry could feel the cool buttons of his trousers against his hot skin.</p><p> </p><p>Harry felt like he was being cored. If a single finger had forced out a little ‘oh’, Tom’s cock forced out a garbled, broken keen. It hurt. Harry fought, arching off the bed. He threw an elbow back, catching Tom viciously in the side. Tom reached down, and cupped his neck, dragging Harry until he was upright and precariously unsteady on his feet, too unsteady to keep thrashing.  </p><p> </p><p>Harry’s balance was only maintained by the force in which his thighs were pressed into the bed. Tom was too tall for Harry’s toes to do more than scrabble on the ground. He clutched desperately at the arm Tom had wrapped around his shoulders to cup and expose his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m furious with you, Harry,” Tom whispered, straight into Harry’s ear. He wasn’t thrusting, just buried into his omega as deep as their bodies would allow. Harry clenched at Tom’s arm and hip with white fingers. “I want you so bloody much, Harry. Everything about you is marvelous to me. I love your bravery and your ferocity and your cheeky wit, your delectable little body and your lush scent, and <em>yet.</em>” He hissed, voice close to Parseltongue, “You‘ll only mate me to save some people you used to know in the bloody future.” Tom rocked into Harry, harsh, and they toppled forward, a mess of discombobulated bodies. Harry fell to his elbows, and when Tom callously made him hold his weight as well, his reddened face. Tom’s cock pressed hard and deep with his weight and Harry keened.</p><p> </p><p>Tears pricked in the corners of Harry’s eyes.  Tom shifted his weight slightly to the side, took some of the weight onto an elbow, and stroked Harry’s sweaty fringe off his face and out his eyes. He pressed them together, his cheek and jaw pressing against the burning warmth of Harry’s scar. “But I’ll have you regardless, Harry Potter,” he whispered, as he began to move his hips, small gentle little thrusts that made Harry squirm into the sheets and pant with exertion. The feeling of Tom’ cock in his body was changing now, growing sweeter, and the molten feeling was coming back. He felt warm, overheated, dying under Tom’s fully clothed body. He scrabbled at the sheets once more.</p><p> </p><p>Tom caught up Harry’s hands, entwined them next to their heads. He kept thrusting, almost languorously, pressing kisses to Harry’s hairline and the corner of his wide, tearing eye, nuzzling him, scenting him, marking him. Harry tried to tuck his face away but Tom cruelly bit into his ear until he bared himself to Tom’s affectionate mouth once more.</p><p> </p><p>Tom kept rocking, his body a heavy mantle over Harry’s, dick hard and insistent, until Harry felt dazed and overfull, and the edges of the world lost their sharpness, their color. “I’m going to knot, Harry.” Tom rumbled, low. “Don’t fight. Promise me.” Harry whined. He wanted to turn away, but his poor ear still throbbed from Tom’s sharp teeth. </p><p> </p><p>Tom shook him, lightly. “Promise.”</p><p> </p><p>It was the most dangerous time in a mounting, when the alpha knotted. Probably the only time they could conceivably actually really harm an omega. It wasn’t common, but it was Harry’s first time, Tom’s first knot with him, and sometimes it triggered a fight instinct. Probably why Tom had chosen this position for the first time, with Harry so pinned that even if he did fight, he would do a shit job of it.</p><p> </p><p>Harry jerkily nodded his head. Tom softly kissed a tear off his cheek in reward. He rocked, one, two, three, and stilled, deep as he could go. Harry squirmed, waiting, but Tom’s dick felt the exact s—.</p><p> </p><p>Harry jerked, keened. The knot was pressing up into him, swelling, holding him still, pinioned, under his alpha, and oh-shit, a terrible itching feeling was building up his spine. He clenched his fingers hard against Tom’s, trying to go still, trying not to move. “Harry—,” he heard, a rough-voiced warning in his ear.</p><p> </p><p>Harry hit orgasm with a big crash of white, a vacuum of color and sound, hit like a Merlin-damned deer on a train track by the all-consuming rush of the knot high. All he could feel was the knot, all he could remember was being this full, this satisfied, this warm and contented and <em>perfect</em>. Surely even the warm comfort of the womb hadn’t been this great, this miraculous, this safe. His brain was floating, his body was utterly and completely limp. He wasn’t even certain if he <em>had </em>a body. He was making small, pleased noises, and the only part of his body even functional was his clenching hole around Tom’s glorious, thick knot. It was perfect, wonderful, amazing. He had to share, had to let Tom know how absolutely splendid he and his thick miraculous cock were.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you,” Harry blurted, and Tom froze, mantled over him. The tight grip on his hands relaxed. <em>Were</em> those his hands? Was that his face being kissed? Was this his body being pressed down into the mattress? The only thing he was sure of was his arse, stuffed full and completing him.</p><p> </p><p>Tom relaxed over him, easing the pressed weighted flush of their bodies. He was nuzzling into Harry’s neck now, exposing that spot he’d sucked a livid bruise into. He kissed it, gentle. Then he refastened his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Harry screamed, it felt so good, so perfect, his whole body a livewire of exquisite feeling. “Tom, Tom, Tom,” he was crying, Tom was killing him, it felt like his whole body was vibrating so hard and so fast he would explode into <em>light.</em></p><p> </p><p>Harry sobbed when Tom let up, cheeks wet and eyes blurred with wet. “Tom,” he slurred. “Hold me, please.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shh,” Tom soothed, uncharacteristically gentle, gentler than he’d been the whole time combined. He rolled them on their sides, until he was cradling Harry’s body in the larger curve of his own. Harry tilted his head back, rested against Tom’s shoulder. He curled closer, dragged Tom’s free arm around him. Tom wrapped his hand light around the base of his neck, like a collar.</p><p> </p><p>“Your clothes are itchy,” he complained, out of it, as he squirmed closer into Tom. He was chilling now, after how incomparably hot he’d been before.</p><p> </p><p>“I know. As soon as the knot fades, I’ll take them off. Then I’ll be able to feel your skin against mine.” Tom soothed.</p><p> </p><p>“’Mkay.” Harry really didn’t care. Not really. He drifted off in Tom’s arms.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Tom trailed his fingers over Harry’s forehead, lightly brushing his fringe. He didn’t actually touch Harry’s skin, his fingers ghosting just above it, but Harry sort of felt it under the skin. It reminded him of playing with magnets when he was younger, holding them apart when they wanted to touch, then flipping one over and pushing them together when they clearly didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand your scar,” Tom said, the barest whisper. Harry was still tuckered from the knotting, and could only blink dazedly at him. “I always want to touch it.” Tom smiled at himself. “I always want to touch you, really. But in between daydreaming about fucking you on my fingers or biting your nipples, I dream about touching your scar. I thought it might be some minor compulsion magic, but feeling it like this shows it’s clearly not.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry grumbled a little, trying to bring his mind up and running again. He shifted, to bring his face away from Tom’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>Tom’s face darkened. “Oh no. None of that,” he ordered, and there wasn’t enough of Harry’s brain to fight it. Harry went still.</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” Tom clipped.  His praise lit Harry up, and he found himself settling back in, under Tom’s body.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Harry woke the next day to the sensation of being knotted, Tom sighing into the back of his neck as he nibbled and bit. Their fingers were entwined to the sides of Harry’s head, and the Gaunt ring was a new weight on Harry’s finger.</p><p> </p>
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